Our hopes are flatter'd with the Fair's compliance; Beauty and Wit were always in alliance!

Their mutual fway reforms the rude creation,
And TASTE's determin'd by their approbation.

The tragic Mufe prefents a ftately mirrour, Where Vice furveys her ugly form with terror: And as the fiend departs-abafh'd-difcardedImperial Virtue's with the palm rewarded. The comic glafs, from modern groupes collected, Shews fops and fools of every clafs-diffected: It marks the fair coquet's unfaithful dealings, And proves that haughty prudes may have their failings.

For faults that flow from habit more than nature,

We'll blend, with honeft mirth, fome wholesome fatire.

Now for our bark—the vessel's tight and able! New built!-new rigg'd!-[Pointing to the Scenes] with canvas-mast—and cable!

Let her not fink,-or be unkindly stranded,
Before the moral freight be fairly landed!
For tho' with heart and hand we heave together,
'Tis your kind plaudit must command the weather:
Nor halcion feas,-nor gentle gales attend us,
"Till this fair circle with their fmiles befriend us.

A PRO

A

PROLOGU U E,

ON OPENING THE THEATRE AT WHITBY THE

ENSUING SEASON.

Ο

'ER the wild waves, unwilling more to roam,

And by his kind affections call'd for home ; When the bold youth that ev'ry climate tries 'Twixt the blue bofoms-'Twixt the feas and skies→→ When he beholds his native Albion near, And the glad gale gives wings to his career, What glowing extafies, by Fancy dreft, What filial fentiments expand his breast! In the full happiness he forms on shore, Doubts-dangers-and fatigues are felt no more.

Such are the joys that in our bofoms burn!
Such the glad hopes that glow at our return!
With fuch warm ardours you behold us meet,
To lay, once more, our labours at your feet.

(Not without hopes your patronage will last)
We bend with gratitude for favours past.
That our light bark defy'd the rage of winter,
Rode ev'ry gale-nor started ev'n a splinter;

We

We bow to Beauty-('twas those smiles fecur'd her) And thank our patrons who so kindly moor'd her. Still-ftill-extend your gentle cares to fave her, That she may anchor long in Whitby's-favour.

PROLOGUE,

SPOKE IN THE

CHARACTER OF A SAILOR, ON

OPENING THE NEW THEATRE AT NORTH

SHIELDS.

[Without.

HOLLO! my mafters, where d'ye mean to ftow us?

We're come to see what paftime ye can fhew us;

Sal, ftep aloft-you fhan't be long without me,
I'll walk their quarter deck and look about me.

[Enters.

Tom and Dick Topfail are above-I hear 'em, Tell 'em to keep a birth, and Sal-fit near 'em : Sal's a fmart lafs-I'd hold a but of ftingo In three weeks' time she'd learn the playhouse lingo: She loves your plays, fhe understands their meaning, She calls 'em-MORAL RULES made entertaining: Your Shakespeare books, fhe knows 'em to a tittle; And I, myfelf (at fea) have read a little.

At

At London, Sirs, when Sal and I were courting, I tow'd her ev'ry night a playhouse sporting: Mafs! I could like 'em and their whole 'Paratus, But for their fidlers and their damn'd Sonatas ; Give me the merry fons of guts and rofin,

That play—God fave the King, and Nancy Dawson.

[Looking about.

Well tho' the frigate's not so much bedoyzen'd, "Tis fnug enough!-Tis clever for the fize on't: And they can treat with all that's worth regarding On board the Drury-lane or Common-Garden.

[Bell rings.

Avaft! A fignal for the launch, I fancy : *What fay you Sam, and Dick, and Doll, and Nancy, Since they have trimm'd the pleasure-barge so tightly, Shan't you, and I, and Sal, come see them nightly! The jolly crew will do their best endeavours, They'll grudge no labour to deferve your favours. A luckier fate they fwear can ne'er behap 'em Than to behold you pleas'd, and hear you-clap 'em.

*To the Gallery.

AN

AN

EPILOGUE,

SPOKE AT NORWICH, IN THE CHARACTER OF MRS. DEBORAH WOODCOCK, IN LOVE IN A

VILLAGE.

AFTER the dangers of a long probation,

When Sybil like, fhe's skill'd in penetration; When fhe has conquer'd each unruly paffion, And rides above the rocks that others dash on; When deeply mellow'd with reserve and rigour; When decent gravity adorns her figure, Why an old maid, I wish the wife would tell us, Should be the ftanding jeft of flirts and fellows!

In maxims fage! in eloquence how clever! Without a fubject she can talk-for ever! Rich in old faws, can bring a sentence pat in, And quote upon occafion, lawyer's latin.

Set

up

that toaft, that culprit, nobus corum, 'Tis done-and fhe's demolish'd in turrorum.

If an old maid's a dragonefs on duty,
To guard the golden fruit of rip'ning beauty;